Family Comes First
by Hana Noiazei
Summary: WWII: The Japanese are advancing into Hong Kong, and nobody is suffering more than the nation himself. The British Commonwealth is defending him and his brothers are taking care of him, but it's not enough. He knows that China must hurt more than him, though: nothing hits harder than your former brother attacking your charge.
1. Invasion

_25th December, 1941_

 _Stanley, Hong Kong_

They're going to lose. He knows it.

Internally, Canada curses himself for bringing so little of his soldiers. England's boss said to expect five thousand of the Japanese. They're being hit with ten times that amount. It doesn't help that the majority of his soldiers are young and inexperienced, too. Being barely eighteen and having almost no idea how to even hold and shoot a rifle, they're like lambs to the slaughter.

He grips his rifle and aims at an opposing soldier, firing. The bullet hits its mark and brings the soldier down, but the moment he falls, another takes his place. Canada winces, hearing another shout from a soldier. He spares a second to turn, seeing him fall to the ground with a small red circle in his head. He's lost another one.

 _How many are left?_ Sweeping his eyes over the battlefield, the nation makes out a few members of his army. _Three... four... five... six..._

Ten remaining. Out of the one thousand five hundred who arrived at Hong Kong to fight, ten of them left. Another one falls, skewered in the gut by a bayonet. Nine remaining.

It's only been seventeen days, but the Japanese have already swept through almost all of Hong Kong. It won't be long until this city is theirs too. _And to think England used to have an alliance with Japan,_ Canada thinks darkly. _Well, looks like that went down the drain._

Canada sees India with his own troops, faring almost as badly. But, at least India has numbers, with around twice the number of troops he has. Canada isn't nearly as lucky.

England is at the docks, shouting commands to the meagre two boats floating in the sea. It's almost laughable, really: two boats fighting against Japan's eleven. Japan has an air force, too. Forty-seven planes whizzing above Hong Kong dropping bombs left and right.

The three countries exchange looks. They're far apart, absorbed in the haze of battle, but it's obvious they're thinking the same thing- _it's no use_.

A deafening boom is heard and England's gunboat erupts into flames, all the people on board shouting in alarm and jumping into the water. England curses, ordering the navy members to swim ashore and fight on land. He knows now that his and China's superiors had no intention to save Hong Kong in any way. _He was left to defend for himself._

He remembers the year 1842, when Hong Kong Island was declared his colony by the Nanjing Treaty. Then 1860 when they received the Kowloon Peninsula. And 1898, when all of Hong Kong belonged to Britain. That was when Hong Kong became his adopted younger brother. And now the young city is on the brink of death, because his own leader doesn't want to save him.

As he helplessly watches the Japanese blaze through his Commonwealth's armies, his own men come to mind. He, Canada, India, China and Hong Kong have fourteen thousand soldiers in total, barely a quarter compared to the Axis nation's troops. It doesn't help that China and Hong Kong are too weak to fight, either. They might as well start waving a white flag.

"Kirkland!"

England turns at the mention of his human name. One of his remaining soldiers, battered and covered in wounds but very much alive, is waving to him. "They sent another issue for surrender to the Governor. If they give in, it's all over."

England stares at his soldier, then at the person leading the Japanese soldiers: a black-haired man- no, a _boy_ \- leading his men into a massacre. Face still blank and emotionless, like this is something as normal as brushing your teeth before bed is. Like this is something an average boy would do every day.

How Japan has changed: from the shy, isolated shut-in who refused to see anyone outside of Asia, to this cold and emotionless fighter who'd do anything for power. _If only our alliance was still intact._

He glances briefly towards Canada and India, both countries starting to tire alongside their troops. _We won't go down without a fight._

* * *

 _Meanwhile..._

 _Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong_

Hong Kong gasps as another wave of pain hits him. He takes another drink of water but almost chokes on it in the process. The young city feels nauseous, with agony hitting him again and again as the Japanese advance.

Macau spares him a glance, but turns away once he knows his brother's still holding up. The older city brings his attention to China, the oldest nation sitting in a dark corner. His body is heavily bandaged from wounds, back bent over from being racked by coughs and sobs. China, the two cities know, raised Japan as one of his own. They know that Japan was obsessed with the idea of growing stronger. They know that Japan struck China in the back with his sword before leaving.

They know that Japan used to be China's favourite brother.

Why else would he cry from his attacks?

China's left hand is the most heavily bandaged, flopped limply on the floor. Crippled during the lethal Nanjing Massacre, the deaths of three hundred thousand civilians have taken their toll on the nation. His left eye is patched, slowly losing its sight and throbbing with pain all the way. That's from Unit 731, where his former charge performs ruthless experiments on his people.

China wishes for it all to end, for his vision to fade and the blissful blankness to overcome his body. That way, at least the pain would be gone, and he wouldn't have to suffer any more. But as a country, as the personification of his people, he's blessed and doomed to live as long as his people last. He will feel every blow inflicted on his people, feel the pain his people feel.

Hong Kong gasps again as a coughing fit attacks him. Covering his mouth with his hand, his palm comes away red with blood. His heart starts pumping with the fear of the Japanese's victory, meaning endless suffering for his people. He opens his mouth. "Teacher?"

China looks up.

"Am I going to die?" Hong Kong asks.

Silence, for a moment.

China speaks, voice raspy from disuse. "Do you remember _Dì Zi Guī_?"

Hong Kong nods, remembering the old verses he was forced to memorise as a kid.

"Inside, they always said the same thing: family comes first. Next is your country. You yourself should be last in terms of priority. Japan..." the ponytailed nation chokes back tears. "Japan has defied this rule. Betraying his family, then letting his country commit such... _atrocities_. I wonder if I should still consider him my brother." He smiles bitterly. "Probably not, right? As for whether or not you'll survive... you are Chinese. You can live through anything."

"China," Macau presses. "Don't burden yourself with these thoughts. Please, you need to rest."

China obliges, but not before fixing Hong Kong with a hard stare, the same one he'd use when convincing him to do his homework. Even when weakened, he hasn't changed.

A scuffle breaks out in the office of the hotel, officials shouting among themselves. "The Governor has announced a surrender!"

Hong Kong feels numb. _It's over._

 _I'm done for._

 _I'll be going through a living hell._

He watches as the Japanese officials and generals walk into the hotel. He sees the black-haired boy leading them. His cold, blank eyes. He notices the way China almost hisses when seeing him. He notices that the boy doesn't spare them a glance.

The treaty is signed in a matter of minutes before the Japanese leave. Hong Kong braces himself once again, braces himself for the pain he'll feel for as long as they stay here. His pain, and his peoples' pain. He wouldn't be surprised if he dies. Then, maybe he'll go to heaven.

Because right now...

Hong Kong knows that he's in hell.


	2. Reconciliation

_15th August, 1945_

 _Hong Kong_

 _Finally_.

He's exhausted, injured, starving and slowly losing his mind, but he's won. The Japanese have surrendered, and Hong Kong is safe again. His people won't be suffering any more and there won't be anything else to worry about.

The streets are bustling with people, all shouting and cheering for their release from the Japanese's cruel clutches. Hong Kong and China roam the streets, waving to citizens and stuffing their faces with food from street vendors.

"I've never seen you eat this much," Macau quips, watching his friend shovel fishballs into his mouth.

"It'sh been a long time sinch I've got to eat thish much," Hong Kong says, speech half-muffled. "I shtarved for sthree yearsh, jusht let me eat." China backs up his point by nodding, also shoving food into his mouth.

The older city sighs, but his exasperated expression soon turns into a happy one when he sees Hong Kong's face light up with joy at the sight of his people. Hong Kong tosses candy to children, engages in friendly banter with teenagers and gives respectful nods to the adults. A few lucky citizens even get some coins dropped into their hands. China joins in the citizens' celebrations, a smile on his face despite the scars.

China's close to gaining full recovery: his hand is almost able to function again and his eye is gradually being restored in sight. With Japan's hold away from him, there's not much left to threaten his people.

For now.

The nation speaks of a war, between two warring parties of his government. It's just on the verge of starting and throwing China into another state of chaos and confusion. It's no surprise the normally uptight nation's taking time to enjoy himself while he still can. China doesn't even bother to berate Hong Kong for speaking with his mouth full or dropping his food packets onto the ground: he knows that he'll be bedridden in pain and fear because of the civil war soon.

Until then...

Macau finally gives in, joining the glorious procession. In front, waving to the crowds like them, he spots a few other nations. America is grinning widely, saluting and winking to people and occasionally giving out entire baskets of food. England is nodding modestly and shaking hands. France has his flirty smile on, stopping at times to chat with (or to hit on) various people. Canada is lingering behind, smiling to children and showing them the badges on his military uniform.

Russia is nowhere to be seen, and nobody wonders why.

China's smile widens, all former disdain of the Western countries gone. He waves to them, joining his fellow Allies in greeting the people of Hong Kong. England wraps Hong Kong in a tight hug, apologising for leaving him in the hands of the Japanese. Canada pats the city on the shoulder, congratulating him on withstanding the three years and eight months of hell. Meanwhile, America and China strike up a strangely friendly conversation, with France handing China a few presents. They're getting along so well, it's almost scary.

"Hey, kid." America nods to Hong Kong. "You're one of England's colonies, right? Hong Kong?"

"Yeah."

The nation peers at Hong Kong. "Is it just me, or have you shrunk? Canada told me you're around sixteen, but you look like a twelve-year-old. No offence, though."

"I used to have a population of over a million," Hong Kong says irritably. "Japan cut my population right in half. Like, seriously, do you expect me to look like a hulking mass of muscle after that?"

"Oh." America falters. "Sorry, that must've been pretty insensitive of me. But I just want you to know, you're a real hero for surviving that! Especially for a little guy like you."

Macau smiles at the sight of his brothers' happiness. Looking back behind him, he swears he can see his big brother Portugal, and the rest of his fellow colonies. _Portugal's neutrality saved me this time. I might not be so lucky if we have another World War._

It's been almost four years since Hong Kong and China have smiled, let alone laughed.

Their expressions are lit up with joy and relief, as the war is over and peace reigns again.

* * *

 _8th September, 1945_

 _Beijing, China_

China's boss smiles as the nation walks into the office. "Yao. I'm glad to see you recovering. You can take a rest for a while, it's been a while since you've been healthy."

China forces a smile on his face too, though his stomach is lurching at the insane request he's about to make. "Sir, I'd like to make a small trip to Japan first, please."

As expected, his boss's eyes widen in surprise. "Japan? That country almost brought you to death. Why would you want to visit him?"

He sighs. "I have my reasons. May I go?"

China's boss nods in defeat, though a weary expression's still etched on his face. "Very well. Don't blame me, though, if you return to Beijing crying."

* * *

 _12th September, 1945_

 _Hiroshima, Japan_

He finds his ward in the largest hospital of Hiroshima. The ward is heavily curtained off, the only sign of it being occupied being the Imperial Japanese flag hanging off one of the curtains and a small tag pinned to the cloth, reading "Honda Kiku".

The bombing was exactly six days ago, brought out by none other than America himself. China knows that dropping 2 of the largest and deadliest bombs in history on an already-surrendering country is unethical and cruel, but a tiny part of him feels satisfaction from knowing that Japan deserved it.

China almost bumps into two people walking out of Japan's ward: a tall, muscular blond and a much shorter auburn-haired young man, both with somber expressions and deathly quiet. Germany and Italy, the other two Axis Powers: without a doubt here to visit their fallen ally. They ignore him, though, probably absorbed in their own thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, China opens the curtains and steps into the ward.

Japan is fast asleep, unmoving under his clean white sheets. His face is marred with scars, both arms bandaged and at an angle. If not for his faint rise and fall of his chest, China would think that he's dead.

The older nation takes a seat at the chair next to Japan's bed, scanning his eyes around the small area. Next to the bed is a small bedside table, with a glass of water and countless pills. Japan's military uniform is neatly folded and placed over the chair. Looking closer, China sees a framed drawing on the table.

China, almost a thousand years younger, holding a child Japan in his arms.

 _I wonder if he still considers me as his brother..._ China thinks. _I wonder if_ I _still consider him as mine._ He sits there for a while, remembering the days when Japan was small, writing his unusual _hiragana_ and pretending to be his big brother. Then he thinks of Japan now. _I wonder if it's my fault he ended up this way..._

Japan stirs.

He opens his eyes.

"Japan."

The country rests his eyes on China, the swirling black orbs painfully familiar to him. He speaks, so quietly that the words barely reach China's ears.

"What are you doing here?" Japan draws in a rattling breath, gaze still fixed on China. "To gloat about your victory? Or to compare your healing wounds to my new ones?"

"How many died? How many people died from the two bombings?"

The black-haired boy's eyes widen. "Two hundred and thirty thousand in total," he rasps. "Why do you ask?"

China's eyes are closed. "Do you know how many people died in China from the war?"

Silence.

"A third of people in Nanjing, in six months." China continues. "Over half of Hong Kong's population in almost four years. We lost so many people over the course of the war."

"You must be proud," Japan replies. "Macau stayed out of the mess the entire time. Hong Kong pulled through without fighting back. Your new brothers are much stronger than I'll ever be. You must be happy, too." The faintest smile plays over his lips. "I finally got what I deserved."

"Proud? Yes. Relieved? Definitely. But I'm in no way happy that you're like this." China leans back onto his chair. "America has never been nice to us Asians, has he?"

"I'm sorry."

China starts, a jolt going through him. "You-"

"I'm sorry," Japan repeats, tears brimming in his eyes. "For everything I've done to you. For everything I've done to Hong Kong, Korea, Singapore... everyone. It's ironic, isn't it? I left to become stronger, yet I'm the one too weak to stop my people from killing and harming people from other countries."

"Japan-"

"I bet I brought this onto myself, starting the Sino-Japanese War just to show my strength. All it did was show how weak I am. Aren't I disgusting? You of all people should know that."

"Brother."

Japan stops, still on the verge of tears.

"I forgive you."

"Why?"

"I am a nation and I am your enemy, but, first and foremost, I am your brother." China states firmly. "If I don't see you as family, I am not a true Chinese. People of my country put family before all else. I cannot be any different. Family forgives family, like we did since the beginning. This is how things have always been, this is how things will be now. I forgive you not as a nation, but as a family member."

"China..."

"Maybe, once everything is sorted out, you can visit me. Apologise to Macau and Hong Kong. We can be together again like a family. Of course, as long as you don't copy my culture again."

"Thank you." Japan smiles for real now. "I still see you as my brother, too... _Chūgoku nii-san_."

China returns the smile. " _Wo de dì di, Rìben_." He rises from his seat. "I should be going now, but I'm sure we'll meet again."

Japan summons his remaining strength to sit up, revealing a small wrapped package from under his pillow. He takes it, handing it to China. "This is for you."

China drops his own package onto Japan's bedside table. "And here is my own present. I'll see you soon, Japan."

"Until then."

* * *

Once the curtained area around his ward closes, Japan opens the package China gave him. Inside it is a painted lotus flower, carved from wood. There's no note, but Japan knows: this is a token from China, a symbol of welcoming. The simple gift fills him with joy, as he slips it into his pocket and lies back down.

China tears the paper away from the package, revealing a cherry blossom, molded from silver and encrusted with expensive gems. He almost laughs at the costly gift. "Japan never quite had the regard for money, did he?"

China carefully places the cherry blossom in his pocket, and heads home.

* * *

 _A/N: After WWII, cherry blossoms were planted in China and lotus flowers were planted in Japan. The iconic flowers of each country planted there symbolised their peace after so much fighting._

 _Translations:_

 _Chūgoku nii-san: Japanese for "Big brother China"_

 _Wo de dì di, Rìben: Mandarin Chinese for "My little brother, Japan"_


End file.
